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My hot wife

This happened four years ago, before my wife became a hot wife. I had images of her fucking others before that, after she had told me she had sex with six guys before meeting me. Three were in high school, another a former co-worker and the third a married man neighbour who was her first. Realizing her past fired my imagination, she relished in describing her past experiences in detail. I had told I would enjoy sharing her, but she shrugged that off.

I was briefly transferred to another town before where we now live. I was then 27 and my wife was 26. We were sitting one night in a dimly lit lounge. A guy sitting alone alongside us at another table started up a conversation. My wife invited him to join us. We hadn’t formed any friendships there and found him likable. We guessed his age at about 38. He was slender but clearly worked out a lot He had light brown hair, brown eyes, and an attractive face.

He asked if we played poker. We didn’t. My wife said, “Why not come over tonight and give us some lessons?” He said teaching that would take more time than he would be in town but accepted her invitation to visit. He followed our car to the apartment.

We sat around our kitchen table. He had brought a deck of cards from his car and pulled them out of his coat pocket. He said, “Have you even shuffled a deck of cards?” We hadn’t, so he offered to show us an elegant way to shuffle. My wife picked it up quickly, but me – not so well. Neither she nor I drink much alcohol, but we shared whatever was left in a bottle of rum and another of whiskey from our cupboard.

He told us he was a regional salesman and had been transferred here a year before. He had just received a promotion requiring him to move again within two weeks. My wife said, “Well, darn! And we just met!” “Yeah, I know, right?” He said, “We could play high card draw for pennies if you want”. We at least knew which were a deck’s highest and lowest cards.

With her newly acquired skill, my wife did all the shuffling and soon had collected twenty cents more than him or me. At the moment he reached to draw another card, the power went out throughout the apartment complex and maybe beyond.

My wife found a battery-operated lamp from beneath the sink and we continued talking and playing in the dim light. An hour passed but his company made it seemed like only minutes. I’m unsure how full either bottle was at the beginning, but only a quarter bottle of rum then remained. Each of us clearly felt it. He said he could go if it was getting late. My wife said, “Oh no, we’re off for the weekend. We stay up late, so you’re welcome to stay long as you like”. I think my wife had consumed the most. She added, “You might want to sleep on our couch after all that liquor we went through”.

Our conversation turned to sex jokes and my wife got him to tell how many women he had slept with. That level of conversation allowed him to suggest changing the stakes from pennies to stripping. We laughed, and my wife said, “What if I’m wearing less than either of you? That doesn’t seem like an equal start”. I suggested we could give her a pass the first time she lost one of the draws. She bit her lip thoughtfully, then said, “Okay, I’m in.”

It wasn’t long before none of us were wearing anything except for my shirt. She grinned and said to me, “I guess you win”. He said, “It doesn’t need to be over. We could play, with the lowest card holder having to do whatever the highest card winner wants”. My wife giggled and asked if I was game. I agreed. I removed my shirt, so we were all then naked.

The winners’ initial requests were frivolous. My wife was told to stand on one leg for a minute and the only way she could stabilize herself was by touching our guest’s head. I made him walk around the table. When he stood, he had a full boner I estimated at around seven and half inches. My wife stared at it, her chin cupped in her hand.

Sitting down, he grinned and said, “If I win the next round, I’ll ask your wife to massage and masturbate me”. Although my wife was three sheets to the wind, her eyebrows raised doubtfully until he added, “But if I lose on the next draw, my penalty will be $100 cash”. He reached for his wallet in his coat, removed the bills and laid them on the table. She calculated her odds of losing at just one in three and said, “I can do that. I’m hoping to win $100. If I lose, I’ll do either of you”.

I didn’t then realize it, but we would ultimately agree that night was likely her first step to becoming a hot wife.

She drew a winning king of hearts, reached for the hundred, pulled it across the table and set it at her elbow. My lowly five of spades resulted in my massaging her shoulders for thirty seconds. He said, “Another forty for the next hand”. We poured the last of the rum into our glasses. My wife, confident under intoxication, leaned forward and said to him, “Deal the cards”.

She lost with a humiliating two of hearts and said, “Well, damn!” She followed him to our living room couch, decided she had to lean over too far there to massage him and asked him to instead go to our bedroom. The power had never returned, so she brought the battery-operated lamp and placed in on our dresser across the room.

She knelt alongside him, laying on his stomach, and began rubbing him down from neck to feet. He turned over onto his back and she gasped at his long cock pointing to the ceiling. She massaged his stomach, slowly moving down until curling her fist around his pole. She gulped, saying, “You’re very gifted!”

Standing near the bedside, I found myself in a high state of excitation a she stroked his dick. He breathed heavily, his hips lifting slightly with each pump of her hand. She leaned closer and he caressed her breasts. She moaned. Her mouth opened and engulfed his cock, her head bobbing over his groin. Her eyes rolled up to watch me masturbating. I wasn’t certain the look on her face was questioning, but I nodded approval. She withdrew her mouth and straddled his hips. Grasping his stiff rod, she lowered her groin to his, rubbing the dickhead against her clitoris, then inserting into her creaming pussy. He groaned with pleasure.

She leaned her hands on his chest and fucked him, increasing her tempo with each bucking motion. She whimpered, “You’re so deep inside me!” He said, “Oh yeah, ride it!” I reached to the bedside table for a tissue and spurted my semen into the paper.

He rolled her body beneath his without allowing his cock to fall from her slit and pumped madly into her. Her heels kicked the mattress and she cried out, “Oh my god! I’m so awfully hot! Fuck me!” His shaft was buried in her muff to the hilt with each thrust. Her hips rotated as he plunged into her and tears rolled down her cheeks. She sobbed, “I love your big prick!”

His assault was relentless, no more than minutes, but seeming to me like an hour. Her bloodshot eyes were wide as saucers when she howled, “Oh my god, I’m cumming!” He said, “Me too,” and moments later his lava rocketed through his cock and into her heated cunt. They lay together, arms and legs entwined and whispering words I couldn’t hear.

She led him by a hand to our bath. I sat exhausted in the bedroom’s corner chair and watched their reflections in the bath door’s mirror as she soaped and rinsed his cock. She dropped to her knees and took his hard penis in her mouth as the water sprayed over them. She stood and leaned her back against the tiled wall as he entered her again. I fell asleep as he was fucking her.

Sometime in the dark early morning, I awoke to the bed rocking. I turned to watch my wife beside me on her hands and knees as he fucked her pussy from behind. Her head thrashed side to side, her hair flailing the room’s warm air. Her butt bumped against his firm belly each time he drove his rod into her cunt. She screamed in orgasm seconds before his sperm erupted into her channel. They lay silently side by side, my wife between us, and fell asleep.

At early light, I awoke and dressed in the living room. I heard my wife’s joyous sobs from the bedroom as he fucked her at least twice more. Around 11 a.m. they came to the kitchen where they had left their clothes the night before. He kissed my wife at the door, thanking her for “the bang-up night”, then turning to thank me for sharing her.

I suspected he would phone us before he was to move away but didn’t, and we had failed to ask for his phone number. I thought perhaps he had lost the napkin I wrote our number on. My wife laughed when I said that and said, “I don’t think so. He was telling me before we got out of bed he may have made me pregnant. I didn’t tell him my operation had left me unable to have children. I think he was concerned he might have some parental liability”. I laughed at that. We have no idea where he transferred to, and he has no idea where we are, we have since moved.

But she has since entertained me with her graphic descriptions of that night, adding that event to others of her premarital past. Her retelling those always bring my cock to attention.

A little over a year later, she would enter into an affair with a co-worker for three months without my knowledge. When I ultimately learned of it, we mutually agreed she should become a hot wife. We each understood that her sexual fidelity thereafter was highly unlikely, having discovered the joy of other cocks in her married pussy. Our monogamous past is gone, and neither of us wish to return to that part of our lives.

One Comment

  1. This is such a great story… Reading it makes my cock hard, I could not wait to finish it so I could jackoff thinking about your wife being fucked by other men. That is what I want so much. I have been nudging her for months and think she is getting close to spreading her legs for another guy.

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